


The One Where Toki Thinks Indians Are Cool

by LadyLustful



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Author loves to chat in the Comments, Gen, Mention of Child Abuse, Mention of Killing, Toki's butchered English, earlyklok, except the child's Toki, gen - Freeform, ignorance, inadverted mild racism, mention of a child living in the woods, mention of scalping, more like a well-meaning child perpetuating a stereotype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLustful/pseuds/LadyLustful
Summary: A glimpse of Toki, his interests and his past. I just love that poor child and his murderous mind.





	The One Where Toki Thinks Indians Are Cool

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted that the picture of Native Americans in European popculture was largely shaped by a writer called Karl May. He was very sympathetic to them, but he had also never been to America and as a result, only coincidentally got his facts right, as well as being prone to Mary-Suesque characterisation* and Hollywoody plots** As his books were written in the 19th century, and then re-published repeatedly until the present, as well as inspiring literally dozens of other writers, I decided his books (or those of an imitator) would be almost certain to wind up in the Wartooth house (probably inherited from an earlier generation; Aslaug seems to disdain adventure fiction).  
> *Winnetou's stunning beauty and ridiculously perfect hair, anyone?  
> **the damn dam in The Treasure in Silver Lake

“Uh, I hate when it does that”, mutters Nathan, fishing a lock of hair out of his glass, looking at it with disgust, then shrugging and downing the coke-and-vodka-but-mostly-vodka in one gulp.

“Why doesn'ts you braids it? Like I does”, asks Toki from over his own candy-flavoured vodka.  
Nathan has taken a sip of it exactly once and shudders at the memory– shit that tastes like sugary unicorn shit is just not meant to be drunk.

“Because”, Nathan grits out reluctantly. “I'd look like a stereotypical Indian.”

Toki looks at him quizzically, in a way that reminds Nathan how much of a baby Toki is compared to him.  
“But dat ams goods, nei? Indians ams ways more coolers than regular jerkoffs.”

He takes a swig of candy vodka and continues, “Ya knows, Natens, when I was reallies smallers, like a barn...”  
“A barn???!!!”  
“Ya. What's you calls them smallers, youngs peoples? Dat goes to school and stuff.”  
“Children. We call them children. A barn is, uh, a big house you keep hay and stuff in. And, um, animals.”  
This explanation apparently makes sense to Toki, because he nods and moves on.  
“When I was like a childrens, I wanteds to runs off and lives with the Indians. Lives in the woods. Sleeps in a tents. Hunts. Scalps and kills peoples. And then I runs off for reals, before Runke finds me. Sleeps in the woods, kills small animals with a foldings-knife? Dat's what it ams called?”  
“Yeah.”  
They lapse into a momentary silence, the conversation momentarily forgotten, then Nathan asks the one question that cropped up in his mind and will not give him peace.  
“But, uh, why?”  
“So I ams safes and frees. My far not finds me and not hits me agains.” And Nathan realises that the boy must be truly smashed to reveal something like this about his own past so brazenly. And that, no matter how much he sounds like he doesn't care, he probably needs reassurance. No matter how lousy Nathan is at giving it.

“Uhm, Toki, you are free. You are safe. I'll kill that fucker before I let him touch you again. And then I'll kill him again just to be sure. Got it?”

“I loves you Natens.”  
“That's gay.”  
“Like a brothers.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Living in the woods and killing small animals is something actually done by a black metal musician in the early 90s. I think it was Dead, but I am not dead certain.  
> And Google Translate tells me barn is Norwegian for child.


End file.
